He let us sign the books…

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I like bookshop owners who trust that they will actually sell our books.  Jeremy in Methvens is like that….some ladies came in and bought books and then we signed the rest – which he promised to put on the table up front.  That’s good.  the covers are so beautiful, people have to stop and look. ..and buy.

Soft Voices Whispering has been out there a week now and so far the responses are very positive.  That’s a relief – I worried that the darker story and more lyrical style might be too heavy but no, apparently two so far have cried….and enjoyed the experience.  One said, ‘You have taken the ordinary and rendered it divine.’  Read it and see.

We had dinner with friends Sat.  The husband, fuelled with the best wine, commented that surely writing is an ART, I should do it for love and not for money.  I said I loved money so was looking to shortcut the middleman and just make a fortune.  He said that was cynical so I had to explain that, yes, writing is wonderful and even more wonderful when someone comes up and says how much they loved your book (always in a supermarket queue when you can’t find your purse and haven’t had time to brush your hair) but trying to publicise the book so folk buy it in the first place is time consuming, soul destroying, demoralising.

He refused to hear that.  He said, ‘You should do it for love of your art. Full stop.’          

I said, ‘Will you come to my house tomorrow and rearrange my pictures, my sofas and sort out my feng shui?’ (He’s an interior designer)

He said, ‘Of course, darling, what time?’

‘As early as possible.’

‘I’d love to!’

I said, ‘As you’d love to, will you do it for free?’

He said no.

Full Stop.

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